Right One For You
by Immortal Supernatural Freak
Summary: *AU*: The Supernatural Adoption Agency - SAA for short - Stiles is the only human there. However, he is more servant than resident in the only place that should have been able to look after him. But, will that all change when, one day, a man walks into the Agency looking for someone to take in? Will Stiles finally get the family and home he has been craving since he was only seven.
1. Prologue

**Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one.**

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Prologue**

**Stiles**

I used to think to myself: '_today is the day, I end it all_'.

But I never did.

I never knew what it was... Maybe because I was scared. Maybe because I was too pathetic... But I could never do it.

But then, it all changed. And I realised...it was because, _somehow_, I _knew_ it would all change that I couldn't do it. Somehow I knew that things would get better, that I would get the chance to live normally.

Well, as normally as you can when you live in a town full of supernatural creatures.

Ever since that one thing changed, everything else followed. My grades – even though they were some of the highest in all my classes already – became near perfect. I had people that cared for, in a way that I could never ask Scott or Melissa to...

I had more friends than I had ever had – luckily, the group included Scott.

I had a family again.

I had a home again.

Hell, I had a fucking _boyfriend _now.

But none of that takes away the pain of being an orphan. Of losing both parents in the same night due to an illness for one and a man blinded by rage for the other... I had been only been seven at the time, and I could remember _everything _that happened that night. I watched as both of my parents died. I watched, knowing there was nothing I could do... But still I blamed myself for what happened to them. If I took better care of them, if I looked out for them...then they would still be alive.

However...it did help that those people – my new friends, my new family, my boyfriend – saved me from _that place_.

Saved me from the pain.

Saved me from the nightmares.

Saved me from the cold blooded hate.

Saved me from _myself_.

Because, without them, I would have no story to tell. Without them, I wouldn't be alive. Without them...I would be nothing but worm food.

Maybe I should start from the beginning. After all, the beginning is a very good place to start.

* * *

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_**Thanks XD Hope you like ^_^**_


	2. It Wouldn't Help

**Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one.**

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 1**

**Stiles**

I didn't live in a house.

I didn't live in a flat.

I didn't live in what people would think was a normal living environment.

No. I lived in the SAA. The Supernatural Adoption Agency.

This particular place held around twenty children, aged from three to eighteen, that were all part of the supernatural world. Whether that be werewolf or vampire or whatever you could think of.

They didn't have humans and, yet, here I was.

My dad managed to get me to this place before he died, neither of us knowing that the people here didn't take to kindly to humans. But the woman who ran the place kept me anyway, using me as more of a servant than anything else.

I was to clean and file and do anything she told me. I wasn't to complain. I wasn't to talk to anyone.

She let the other kids do whatever to me. Letting them leave bruises and marks on my skin, sending me to the hospital more than once... And she even joined in at times, especially when drunk.

That was why I usually stayed at Scott's house. I could get away with it, so long as I spent one night and day at the Agency to '_take care of my duties_'. Melissa didn't mind me staying round and more than once she tried to persuade me to live with her...

But I couldn't place that burden on her, no matter how much I thought of her and Scott as family, and vice versa. I just couldn't be held responsible for doing that...especially when she had enough to deal with already.

But they helped me whenever they could, and that was more than I could ask for.

* * *

It was the start of the summer – Friday, June 1st 2012 – and I was sitting in a diner with Scott. It was the same diner we came to every day after school, but it soon went from after school to just every weekday, so we could still come during the holidays.

And for good reason too.

I mean, for one, the food was _awesome_! Best curly fries _ever_!

But also because there was this guy that always seemed to come in a short time after Scott and I had sat down.

Derek Hale, one of two Alpha werewolves in Beacon Hills – the other being his mother. Derek had killed a rogue Alpha werewolf after said rogue tried to kill his mother, father, sisters and uncle.

Derek still lived with his old Pack, but he know had a Pack of his own – or so I heard.

The only reason I knew was because he and Scott had told me... Not that I knew that Scott knew Derek Hale until we first saw Derek in the diner.

Now it had sort of become routine: arrive at the diner, sit down, wait for Derek, order food when Derek got there, talk for a while, and go back to Scott's – unless I had to go back to the Agency. Though the Derek part had only started in the past two weeks.

Today, _luckily_, was a day I was spending at Scott's.

Anyway, Scott and I were sitting at our usual table in the diner, waiting for Derek to show up.

"Dude, no Harris until September!" I grinned, throwing my fists into the air as I slumped back into my seat. "Miracles do happen! Why did they even let him become a teacher?"

"Too many theories, man. Too many theories." Scott laughed, shaking his head a little.

Scott and Melissa – as well as the school – were the only ones that knew about my..._living _conditions. I didn't want people to know and thankfully no one else did. Only the people that _needed _to know, knew...

Not that the school knew exactly what happened behind the four walls of the Agency.

It was all too suddenly that my best friend stopped his laughter.

"Why won't you just come live with us, man?" Scott asked, his expression tightening as he spotted the newest bruise on my forearm. "You need to leave."

I sighed, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. It was something that we always fought over.

I would never tell Scott my reasoning, however. He would just tell me I was being ridiculous, that I was as more family than friend.

But I just couldn't tell him. And I couldn't say yes, either.

As I sat there, trying to think of a way to get out of this conversation, neither Scott nor I heard the door to the diner open. Which said a lot about Scott's wolfy super powers!

"Bro, you need to get out of there." Scott insisted, desperately."

"Get out of where?" a bored, gruff voice asked as I opened my mouth.

_Man, Derek has great timing._

I turned to face the Alpha wolf as he sat on the seat next to Scott, seeing the usual raised eyebrow in place on his face.

"Chemistry!" I lied, before Scott could say anything, even though I knew my friend would never tell a soul about the Agency. "It doesn't provide a...uh... It doesn't provide much of a, um, challenge."

By the look on his face, I could see that he didn't believe me.

Well, it was the truth that Chemistry didn't provide much of a challenge for me, but Derek knew it was the reasoning behind mine and Scott's talk.

But the Alpha said nothing. He just left the conversation alone.

* * *

The three of us sat in the diner for a while, talking about anything. Of course, many of the topics I came up with were quickly turned down by Derek.

Sometimes, I wondered if the guy hated me... But that thought usually disappeared when Derek would actually _defend _me when any student from Beacon Hills High would walk by and make any comment or gesture towards me.

It was confusing getting all these mixed signals. But Derek seemed to be filled to the brim with them.

As always, Derek left just two hours after sitting down with us, saying little less that a goodbye. Scott and I only stayed around for another five minutes or so before we left to.

"Do you have to go back _there _tomorrow? Can't you just stay with us?" Scott asked, almost pleading. "I don't like seeing my best friend hurt."

"I told you, I can't." I sighed. "Now, _please_, let it go."

With a look, Scott shut his mouth before he could say anything more. Shaking his head like he did earlier. No matter how dumb people thought my friend was, he could be far from it.

"Come on, we can watch Batman." Scott grinned, trying to take both of our minds off of what was waiting for me tomorrow.

But no matter how hard either of us tried, I knew it wouldn't help...

* * *

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	3. The Agency

**Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one.**

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 2**

**Stiles**

I left Scott's place early the next morning – Saturday, June 2nd 2012 – sneaking out of the house, backpack on my shoulder.

It was still dark as I made my way into the town, slowly getting further and further away from the only place that had offered me a place to call home in, almost, ten years. But I had to go back.

All I had to do was get through the day and survive the night... Then I could go back to Scott's for another six days. That's all I had to remember.

But remembering that never took away the endless pain.

Nothing could. Not yet anyway...

I just had to wait another year, two months and twenty four days... Then I would be eighteen and I'd be able to leave the hell hole; I'd be able to go wherever I wanted. I could leave Beacon Hills if I wanted, travel the world.

I would, legally, be an adult in just a year, two months and twenty four days. I would get the money that my parents left me, as well as get the life insurance. Both of those things that Ms Scarlet Johnson – the woman who ran the SAA – couldn't get to. _Ever._

Much to her disgust.

I sighed, shaking my head as I moved my backpack higher on my shoulder, gripping the strap tightly.

Ms Johnson was, to put it lightly, a bitch. I seemed to be the only human she hated...and I didn't know why.

I mean, sure, I'm annoying.

And a loudmouth.

A smartass.

My ADHD makes me a liability.

I never knew when to shut up.

Everyone I knew gets hurt in some way.

I scared off anyone who even attempted to be nice to me – accept Scott and Melissa.

Shaking my head, I remembered something. That is was all my fault. That I'm not good enough. That I'm _never _good enough.

Anything and everything was _my _fault.

I was the cause of it all. I was the common denominator.

Nobody else, but me.

It was that moment that I stood in front of the old building, with the faded black and white sign. It looked more like an abandoned house than an adoption agency. I felt sick as I saw the Agency's catch phrase – '_Find The Right One For You!_' – printed in red block letters in the window.

I remembered the first time I saw this building.

Remembered how my father's blood was prayed everywhere – on me, on the side walk, on that very same window – after a man shot him, just as my dad got me to the Agency.

Remembered how Ms Johnson made me wash my own father's blood off of the window and off of the sidewalk.

I would never be able to forget that.

And, all I could think, as I walked through the door at this moment, was: _I deserve this_.

* * *

I didn't change my clothes.

I couldn't.

What I was wearing – a holey dark blue t-shirt; uncomfortably tight jeans, with rips in the material; one pair of old, ruined sneakers – were the only things I owned. Well, that was, if you didn't count the red hoodie, that used to belong to my dad, that I kept safe in my backpack.

I didn't have enough money to buy other clothes. Ms Johnson surely didn't 's_ee the point_' of getting the '_pathetic, worthless human_' something like clothes. She thought I should just live in rags, like the '_poor excuse for a servant_' I was.

I was lucky that she was still asleep by the time I snuck into the Agency – it was, around, four in the morning. Otherwise, I would have been screwed. So, sighing a little in relief, I started to go about my daily chores – after hiding my backpack in the basement, which doubled as my room.

By the time nine o'clock came around, I had: made the breakfast, done the laundry and cleaned the floors on all three levels of the building. I always worked hard to get my chores done...it was always better if I got most of them done.

I just had two more things to do now, before lunch: tidy up and get out of sight.

Then I could hide out until lunch.

I was halfway through tidying up, when I heard echoing footsteps making their way towards me.

Nothing could have prepared my for the painful hit to the back of my head, making me stumble and fall on all fours on the ground as I lost my footing.

"Oh, get up ya lazy, little shit." Ms Johnson – an Omega were-tiger – rasped, as she flicked her still-lit cigarette at me. "Or I'll do more than clip ya round the head."

"Yes, ma'am." I whispered, keeping my head down as I stood back up.

This was how every day started.

Sometimes, it started worse than this...so, today, I was lucky.

* * *

"_Weasel."_

"_Loser."_

"_Pathetic."_

"_Murderer."_

"_If I were you, I'd have killed myself already."_

"_Freak."_

"_Worthless."_

"_Unwanted."_

"_Screw up."_

"_Mistake."_

"_Human."_

These were just a few of the things I heard on a daily basis, whether they be from Ms Johnson or the other kids...

Sure, the last one – _human_ – didn't sound so bad, but when they said it in the same way a homophobe would say '_gay_' – which happened to me on often as well since, hello, I am gay – and the same way Draco Malfoy would say '_mudblood_'...well, I knew to take it as an insult.

It stung, but the pain of hearing the insults were part of my life. Had been for nine years, nine months and eight days. You got used to it.

But the hurt never went away.

"Boy!" I heard Ms Johnson screech as she stormed down the hall towards me, gripping something black in her right hand. "I don't need ya eyes to get even worse, ya little fuck up! If I see that ya aren't wearing them again ya _will_ be sorry. _Do I make myself clear_?!"

"Y-Yes, m-ma'am." I stammered, as she pressed the black object – harshly – into my chest.

"Good. Now, _back to work, _ya _pathetic _bastard!"

I could smell the mix of whiskey and gin on her breath, the strong smells together making me sick to my stomach.

But the knowledge that she had, more than likely, had _a lot _to drink clued me in on what was coming next.

He hand collided with the right side of my head, making the left hit the wall hard. I blinked as fast as I could, trying to get rid of the tears of pain that had started to pool in my eyes, but also to try get rid of the black spots that clouded my already blurry vision.

"_Put_. _Them_. _On_." she spat, shoving me out the way as she walked past.

So I did.

I slid on my black and thick framed glasses, slowly. They basically looked like the ones people wore as fashion accessories. Only these ones had a job. Sure, they were a bit beat up...but it was better than nothing.

Especially since I didn't have the money to get any contact lenses. Ms Johnson certainly wouldn't buy them for me, and I couldn't let Melissa or Scott.

I always tried to put off wearing them. It was enough the people at school picked on me because of the way I looked and everything; they didn't need to take the mick out of my glasses.

Besides, I got enough of that _here_.

"Watch it, Four Eyes!" one of the seventeen year olds – a guy – growled, after he bumped into me. "Don't make me mark that _pretty_ face."

A few of them did that. Taunt me and tease me, I mean. A few years ago, when I was thirteen, a couple of the older boys did actually try to force themselves on me... I managed to get away and get out. By the time I had to go back to the Agency, they had been adopted and I hadn't seen them since.

But that didn't stop any of the others from trying.

Yes, I know, they most of them – pretty much all of them – hated people like me, hated humans... But that, _apparently_, didn't mean they couldn't, and I quote, '_get some release, even if the pathetic human is unwilling._'

I had heard someone say that to their friend as they walked past me... Luckily, they said it on a night I was able to sneak away to Scott's house.

"Sorry." I whispered.

I just wanted this hell to _end_.

But if I wanted that, I would have to do it myself.

_Wouldn't I?_

* * *

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	4. Beating

**Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one apart from the following: **Ms Scarlet Johnson, Octavian.

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 3**

**Stiles**

As always, I went about my work thinking the same thing over and over: _I wish I had stayed at Scott's._

I always thought that, every day I was in this place.

But I couldn't... Not if I wanted to stay alive. I mean, the kids in the Agency go to Beacon Hills High, like I do... Well, those who were old enough, anyway. And others knew the places in town Scott and I went to.

And while, yes, ending this all would just be so much _better_...I would rather do it on my terms, not theirs.

I tried as hard as I could to stay out of everyone's way, hoping to make the twenty four hours I had to endure bearable. It was wishful thinking, but it could happen...

_Pfft, yeah, when I see an elephant fly, maybe._

Shaking my head, I just went back to scrubbing the kitchen floor with a sponge. I was almost done and, as soon as I was done, I could go find somewhere to hide until it was time to do the dinner. Just the last little bit and it would be finished.

I steadied myself on my hands and knees, just to get the last tile, scrubbing at it fiercely. All I wanted to do was just hide until I could leave. Once I was back at Scott's, everything would be fine...

"Well, well, well... Who do we have here?" a voice from behind me chuckled.

Slowly, I sat up until my hands were off the floor. Keeping my head down, I slowly stood up, moving further away from the voice.

Octavian was the only eighteen – almost nineteen – year old in the place. He had been there since he was fourteen, almost fifteen – I had been almost thirteen at the time. Octavian was a pixy – with the ears and everything! It would have been cool...if he wasn't a creepy weirdo who bad touched me whenever he had the chance, even since he first arrived!

I couldn't out run him – he could fly, for God sake! I wasn't strong. The only thing I had was my brain. I mean, sure, I was smart... I was top of my class in pretty much every subject, but my grades weren't perfectly perfect.

Plus, ADHD doesn't help. The Adderall is a huge relief – it's the only thing I allow Melissa to buy for me – but I have to hide it whenever I come back to the Agency, otherwise Ms Johnson takes it away.

"Where'd you think you're going, Kitten?" he growled, grabbing the back of my shirt and yanking me towards him. "I never said you could leave."

Octavian's grip went from the back of my shirt to my hips, the sharp points of his nails digging into my skin, while his dick was – practically – trying to fuck me through our clothes.

As much as I wanted to struggle, to try and get away, I knew that would only cause more damage. It would only hurt more. I would only get more bruises and scars. _He_ would only enjoy it more.

"I never said you could stand up, either." Octavian hissed, pushing me into the counter.

My hips collided painfully with the wood and marble, stopping me from going anywhere. Yet he continued to force me down, until I was bent at a ninety degree angle, with him standing behind me.

I continued to say nothing, knowing that begging him to stop would just make him push harder – _literally_. I had learnt to stay quiet in this kind of situation; otherwise it's a whole lot worse.

"_BOY!" _Ms Johnson's shriek made both Octavian and me freeze.

Octavian scowled, snarling at me slightly, before grabbing me by the scruff of the neck and dragging me to the old hag's office, which happened to be only down the hall from the kitchen.

The eighteen year old always seemed to try touch me more while one the way to the bitch's office, sometimes even attempting to _inside _her office. He never got far, _thank God_!

Ms Johnson's office was a small room. A desk, three chairs, a filing cabinet, computer... That was it. Nothing colourful, no memories... Just black, white and grey.

She was leaning against her desk, glass of gin in her hand, when Octavian dragged me in. Already I knew what was going to happen here, no doubt about it.

My thoughts were only confirmed when she forced Octavian to leave, locking the door after he had left with a '_catch you later, Kitten_' thrown over his shoulder.

I was more than expecting the blow to the head.

* * *

Later that night, I was asleep in the basement – aka, my room.

There was a broken mattress, a blanket filled with holes and a moth eaten pillow, and that was just to sleep on. The rest of the basement was filled with junk they didn't want or need, most of it completely damaged beyond compare, some of it burnt.

I smell was foul, but I had gotten used to it over the years, the stench no longer making me vomit.

I made it work. Just for one night a week, until I could leave.

I thought, tonight, I would get through just one night where nothing – no _one _– came after me, just left me alone.

Wrong.

Before I knew it, I was woken up by duck-tape being forced over my mouth, while simultaneously being dragged up off of the ground.

I was surrounded by five people, none of whom I could see in the dark to identify. But I just _knew _that one of them was Octavian.

One of the five drew back his fist, catapulting it forward with strength only someone of the supernatural could have. The punch landed on my stomach, the force of it making me hunch over and grab it.

Even though they could kill me with their strength, they always held back. Held back just enough so I stayed conscious.

The next punch connected with the side of my face, while someone kicked me in the chest. Another clawed at any part of me they could reach, while the others continued to punch and kick and claw.

"_Fag."_

"_Pansy."_

Punch.

"_Poof."_

"_Fairy."_

Kick.

"_Queen."_

"_Nancy."_

Claw.

"_Shirt lifter."_

"_Back door bandit."_

I was chucked forward.

"_Four eyed ass grabber."_

"_Frigid little shit!"_

With a swift kick to the back of my knee, I was down on my knees.

One of them was behind me, a bruising grip on my shoulder to keep me in place, forcing my knees into the cold, hard, wet ground of the basement, and their other hand locked around both of my wrists.

That's when Octavian stepped forward into the tiniest bit of light in the place. The guy crouched down until he was level with my eyes, his cold icy brown ones staring at me.

"If you'd _just _let me fuck you, this would all be _so much easier_, Kitten." Octavian muttered, his hand reaching out to stroke down my cheek, through the wetness that had gathered there from the blood and tears.

I flinched back from the touch, immediately, shaking my head aggressively. Octavian just sighed, put his head down, stood up and moved away, before giving his goons the go ahead to carry on.

My screams were muffled by the duck-tape over my mouth, blood and tears and sweat mixing together, painfully making the new cuts sting.

I tried to get away, tried to get them to stop.

But they were too strong for me.

Always too strong.

Three of them held me down – one on my arms, one for each of my legs – while the forth straddled me, continuing to let their fist connect with any part of my body that they could get to, all while Octavian stood not too far away, watching with a kind of sick glee.

I just wanted to die.

* * *

Sunday morning, Scott was already waiting by the front door for me.

I had seen how I looked that morning, catching a brief glimpse in the hallway mirror. I looked like something out of a horror movie, dried blood all over my face. Luckily, I got that off before I managed to slip out of the front door, practically sprinting to my salvation, far away from that horrible place.

First thing I did as soon as I was close enough?

Drag my bestest buddy of all time into the biggest hug I could manage at that moment in time.

"Come on, man, let's get you inside." Scott whispered. "You're safe now, buddy."

Nodding a little, and sniffling slightly, I shuffled into the house after Scott, hanging my backpack of few possessions up on the hook and kicking off the old, ruined sneakers.

I kept my head down, not wanting Scott to see what had happened. He would only freak out, which would lead to yelling, and us yelling usually led to me crying...

I didn't want to cry.

"Hey, you up for meeting Derek and the diner later, or do you wanna sleep?" Scott asked, heading to the fridge to pull out a carton of apple juice. "Completely up to you, dude."

"W-We can meet him." I stuttered, quietly, keeping my eyes on my lap, even as I sat down at the kitchen table in Scott's house. "You're mom already at work?"

Scott slid a glass of apple juice in front of me, as well as the orange tube containing my Adderall. I took out 10mg, downing them as quickly as possible, washing them away with the juice.

"Nah, she doesn't start for another two hours. She just got up." Scott said, his voice taking on a weird edge to it. "Stiles, are you alright?"

I just nodded, instead of giving him a verbal answer.

* * *

Melissa had bought me time to think up topics that could distract Scott if need be. And as soon as she was gone, Scott jumped right to it.

"Dude, why are you staring at the ground?" Scott demanded.

"Hey, who'd win in a fight: _Batman_ or _Superman_?" I tried.

"Stiles, tell me."

"Do you think that..."

"Stiles! Stop trying to distract me and look up already!"

So I did.

If he really wanted to see, if he really wanted an argument, then so be it.

A busted lip, black eyes, cuts, bruises...the works.

I looked like a canvas covered in disgusting white, reds, browns, purples, greens, yellows and blues, all of the colours just thrown together, mixing into a puke inducing sight.

That was what I was.

"I knew it." Scott whined. "I _knew _I should have stopped you from leaving! You can't keep going on like this, Sti!"

"Just drop it, Scott." I mumbled. "I'll be fine, I always am."

"But that's just it! You're _not _fine! You're so far passed the line of fine, that you can't _see _it anymore! Damn it, Stiles, this isn't you!"

"Well it is now! I have just over a year left and I can leave that place forever! I'm only there once every week, Scott!"

I could see the frustration building up in my best friend, concern battling against it. Since we had known each other for so long, it was easy to tell what Scott was feeling, and only his mom and I knew how best to calm him down.

But right now, I couldn't do that... I could feel my own panic and frustration building... And Melissa wasn't here to help either of us calm down.

"It's _killing _you, man! I can _see it killing you_!" Scott yelled. "You're a shell! You need to get out of there, Sti! Report them, it's abuse!"

"My dad was the Sheriff, Scott, I know it's _fucking _abuse!" I exploded. "Just, _please_, stop going on!"

"Not until you agree to leave that place, and live here!"

"I _CAN'T FUCKING_ LEAVE, ALRIGHT?! Just leave it at that..."

Scott stopped.

At any other time, I would have made a joke about his '_wolfy senses tingling_'...but not right now.

There was a time and a place, and now wasn't it – ok, wow, Scott was right...I was _not _myself...

"They know some of the places we go; they know they can corner me in school when we go back..." I whispered. "If I run, you could be hurt, your mom could be hurt, and I _know _they'd probably try to kill me. If I tell, they'll make my life more of a hell than it is now... I can deal with it, I promise. You and your mom make it easier."

Scott said nothing more, pulling me towards him – much like I did when I first turned up at the house – bro-hugging me tightly.

"You'll always have a place here." Scott told me.

_And here comes the waterworks..._

* * *

Derek turned up at the diner two minutes after Scott and I had sat down. The Alpha, as always, slid into our booth next to Scott, glare in place.

But it faltered slightly as he saw the state I was in.

If possible, he tensed more, jaw set hard as he took in everything that had suddenly appeared since he had seen me Friday afternoon.

"What happened." he demanded, somehow taking the question mark out of the two word sentence.

"Well, you'll be surprised to know that not everyone thinks I'm the amazing guy I am." I quipped. "I think it's because their jealous, obviously. So, because of that, they thought beating me up was the only way."

Derek growled before raising an incredulous eyebrow. Even though he could hear the joke in my voice, the guy still didn't like me lying.

"Fine, people don't like me." I shrugged. "Some don't like the fact I don't give into everything they want, so they try to beat me into submission. Happens sometimes, it's part of life."

It was true. So what if I didn't tell the big, scary Alpha wolf what was really going on? I didn't know they guy all that well and, to be honest, I didn't want anyone other than Scott and Melissa knowing.

He nodded once, still completely rigid...

Scott sent me a sympathetic smile as he slouched back into his seat.

I just sat there, concentrating more on my drink than the two wolves in front of me as the talked about...wolfy stuff, only interjecting every other sentence...

_Don't have to go back until next Saturday. Calm down._

I couldn't wait to leave that place.

* * *

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	5. Five Days Of Salvation

**Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one apart from the following: **Ms Scarlet Johnson, Octavian.

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 4**

**Stiles**

Monday, June 4th 2012.

I woke up in the bed of the guest room of the McCall house, hips aching... The bruises from where Octavian had slammed me into the counter had started to come through properly, the pain making it a little harder to walk.

It was times like these that I was happy Scott and I stayed inside for the first couple of days that I was back at his place. It gave time for the throbbing to die down at least a little.

I managed to shuffle into Scott's room – the place we spent the duration of our time – and flop down at the end of his bed. Of course, because of how often I was at Scott's, I knew exactly when to come into hi room and when not to.

Scott was the same.

But while Scott could tell because of his wolfy senses telling him if I was up or not, for me it was almost like a sixth sense. It's almost like when I parent knows their child is up, the only different being Scott and I are best friends/surrogate brothers.

So, while Scott was doing morning stuff, I lay on my back across the bottom of his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"_Dude, whatcha wanna do today?!" _Scott called. _"Apart from, you know, stay here!"_

"What we usually do, I guess." I said, knowing he could hear me. "Video games, movies, eat."

"_Still wanna go to the diner?! I can call Derek; tell him we can't make it until Wednesday!"_

"Nah, we can go. I'll just grit my teeth and push through the pain, as always."

I had to do that.

If I let the pain get to me, then I let _them_ win. I was letting _them _call the shots. I was letting _them _push me around, more than what they were already.

I had to control _something _in my little life...

* * *

Monday and Tuesday were exactly the same.

Eat.

Play video games.

Eat.

More video games.

Eat.

Movies.

Eat.

More movies.

Eat.

Video games again.

Eat.

A few more movies.

Eat.

Sleep.

That is how Monday and Tuesday went.

Of course, we still went to the diner...

Monday, Scott and I had gotten to the diner earlier than we usually did, so Derek took a little longer to get there. Luckily, by the time he did, the pain in my hips was bearable, so he didn't call me out on it...

Tuesday?

Well, Tuesday, Scott and I walked in five minutes later than usual. The pain had gotten worse as we neared the diner, making me stop every five seconds. Scott had been fine with it, even telling me to sit down and take a break.

We both thought that we'd still be there before Derek...

We were wrong.

Scott and I had walked in, the pain in my hips absolutely _excruciating_... And Derek was already sitting at our booth.

My stomach dropped.

I swear, Derek's head snapped round as soon as Scott and I walked in, his face darkening as he smelt the pain...

"Like I said, not everyone likes me." I muttered as Scott and I sat down – that hurt more than helped.

"Obviously." Derek growled. "Your bruises have bruises."

Before I knew what was happening, Derek had walked around the booth, slid in next to me and grabbed my side.

Now, naturally, considering what I was used to, flinched away so hard that I bashed my head on the wall, panicking and my heart beating through my ribs.

That reaction surprised and shocked the Alpha wolf in front of me.

But it would, since he didn't know what went on.

"If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already." Derek sighed, irritated. "I'm taking the pain away, idiot."

This time, he placed his hand on the back of my head, taking away the pain through there.

I saw the veins in his arm turn black on the surface of his skin, his body absorbing it.

Almost instantly, I felt nothing.

"Thanks, Sourwolf." I nodded.

But Derek just grunted before moving back to his original seat.

* * *

Wednesday started off the same as Monday and Tuesday, only this time there was no pain.

Whatever Derek did to take it away _really _worked...

But on Wednesday, even though we stayed at Scott's place, we ended up in the garden, practicing a bit of Lacrosse.

I mean, just because it was the summer, didn't mean we couldn't practice!

Besides, I kind of wanted to be more of a bench warmer. I wanted to actually be _on _the field!

So, yeah. Scott's garden was being used as a practice place.

I wasn't terrible at Lacrosse... But I knew I wasn't the _best _either. I mean, come on, four guys on the team had wolfy powers and the others were pure muscle!

And, well... I was a hundred and forty seven pounds of pale skin and bone.

But, still, I _wasn't_ horrible at it.

I was average.

I just needed to prove that I _could_, you know, _play_.

So, that's how, on Wednesday, Scott found himself in our makeshift goal, all kitted out and Lacrosse stick in hand, while I was standing a short distance away, stick in hand and a row of Lacrosse balls in front of me.

"Ok, dude, try score." Scott said, smirk visible even behind the helmet.

Anytime the two of us practiced together, Scott would always get so smug.

But he would.

I mean, _I _would if I had wolfy powers!

Besides, he knew that I knew he would use aforementioned wolfy powers to block any and all attempts I made to score. But, as I saw it, if I could get a ball past a werewolf, I could get a ball past a human goalie.

I hoped.

So, scooping one ball up into the net-pocket of my Lacrosse stick, I launched it towards my best friend, shovelling the next ball into the net-pocket and flinging that towards him too.

I repeated that for every single ball I had with me.

I put all my anger and frustration behind my throws.

Focusing on all the pain that I have been dealt.

All the humiliation.

All the suffering – even though some had it worse than I did.

All the anger towards people.

All the frustration with not being able to leave that _horrible place_!

All the confusion as to _why _my dad was shot that night.

All the grief.

Anything that had made me anything less than happy over the years, I put behind those throws, trying to release some of the stuff that had begun to build up, trying to get more force behind the ball.

By the time I actually looked at the goal, I found Scott on his back with only three out of the fifteen balls in his net-pocket and two of them off to the side of our makeshift goal.

_What happened there?_

Speed walking over there, I chucked my Lacrosse stick to the ground, offering a hand to my oldest friend, helping him sit up.

Scott looked at me, wide eyed and confused, rubbing his forehead a little.

"Ok, I don't know where that came from, but first practice after the summer, _do that_!" Scott told me. "Damn, those balls hurt!"

"Sorry..." I muttered. "Just... Angst, you know?"

"Pent up angst."

"Maybe just a little..."

Shaking his head a little, Scott jumped back up to his feet, punching me in the arm lightly.

At least he didn't yell at me...

* * *

Thursday, we went to a coffee shop in town.

Not just any coffee shop though, but the coffee shop where _Allison _was working, part time, this summer.

Allison had been working the early shift – about, five in the morning, up until eleven in the morning – just to earn a few bucks. She had the weekends off, but Monday to Friday, during the summer, she was working for six hours.

I thought she would have dropped by now. Fallen asleep at the counter of in the back. But Allison was a morning person – unlike Scott and me. She was fine with getting up and going to sleep early, it's what she did every morning.

Yeah, Allison liked to sleep in later, just like every other person I knew... But she couldn't do it every day.

Anyway, so Scott and I walked into Allison's work place at ten-thirty, ordering before going to sit down at one of the nearby tables. We always came in near the end of Allison's shift, that way the three of us could spend sometimes together.

Allison's dad always preferred it when I was with the pair of them when they were out, just so he knew they wouldn't get up to any funny business. I guess he had the extra baggage of the fact that Scott was a werewolf and his daughter and whole family were hunters...

I know! Crazy, right?!

_Man, I can't stay on topic!_

Scott and I spotted the brunette working behind the counter. Allison always preferred being behind there and interacting with the customers. The thing is, she was just so bubbly and bright that people couldn't help but smile and just act a little happier than they were when they came in.

Allison just did that to people.

But even if people are complete assholes to her, she doesn't let it ruin her day. She doesn't let it ruin how she acts for the rest of the day, or ever.

"So, almost a year, dude." I grinned, noting the dreamy expression on my buddy's face. "Anything big planned?"

At that, Scott went red.

It intrigued me more.

"Do I really have to tell you?" Scott asked, shifting uncomfortable.

"Yes! As your bro, you need to tell me! That way I know if I need to help." I countered.

Scott thought for a moment, reddening further.

I could tell that he was trying to find _some _way out of it.

But I knew he wouldn't be able to.

He _never _could.

"Fine!" he sighed, whispering, glaring at the table. "I'm going to recreate what we did on her birthday when we first got together..."

"I swear to _Lucifer_, you two are _the most _sickeningly sweet couple I know! You are like a giant marshmallow-puppy-hybrid-_thing_." I complained. "_Lucky_!"

"Who's lucky?" Allison asked as she came over with three take away cups.

"We are, apparently." Scott chuckled. "Or, I am... I got confused."

Both Scott and Allison knew that I was gay. Scott had known ever since I figured it out, same as Melissa. Allison had known ever since last year when she had started dating Scott, and I had gotten to know her a little better.

Allison also knew about my living with Scott for six out of seven days and that I had to go back to '_Hell on Earth_' for the other, but she _didn't _know exactly _where _I had to go back to. She didn't really know _why _I lived with Scott so much, either... But she never pushed. She never tried to force me to tell her, or talk about it.

Allison was just a great girl.

And if she and Scott ever broke up, I was going to lock them in a small room until they're back together, and I would make sure _neither _of them was able to get out of.

Yeah, that's just the kind of friend I was!

"Stiles!" Allison called.

Snapping my head around, I stared at the pair of them, while they did the same to me.

"Bro, what were you thinking about?" Scott asked, slowly.

"Locking you two in a small room." I replied, immediately.

They just laughed...

"Anyway, you boys ready to leave?" Allison grinned, picking up one of the take away coffee cups.

Already, I could tell it was going to be a good day.

* * *

Friday... I wasn't in the best shape.

I had to go back to the Agency that night, and I wasn't going to be able to go back to Scott's until Tuesday evening. The only reason being that '_important people_' were coming in over those days and everything _had _to be perfect.

Which meant, if it wasn't, I would be blamed.

So, in short, I was screwed.

Scott knew this, of course. Though I only told him today...

He wasn't very happy about it.

I could only think of what they would do to me when I got there...

I would be bruised.

Marked.

Scarred.

Probably be almost – if not, definitely – raped.

I would get concussions.

Possible broken bones or sprains.

I would bleed.

I would hurt.

I would, most likely, cry.

Scream...

It was inevitable. And no one would be able to stop it.

Not ever.

It was at that moment that there was a sharp pain between my eyes.

_Great, a headache. Just what I needed._

But, as if that wasn't enough, that's when Derek walked in. With six familiar faces.

I looked to Scott, a little wide eyed, as we spotted the group of seven walking towards us. I mean, it just _had _to be them!

Boyd, Danny, Erica, Isaac, Jackson and Lydia were all walking towards our booth with Derek leading them, all of them looking like some weird-ass biker gang.

Groaning a little, I slumped back into my seat – I was in a chair this time, instead of seating in one of the booth seats.

_Just my luck._

Seeing Jackson just made everything worse. I thought I was going to be getting _away_ from the assholes from school, so then I only had to deal with the ones at the Agency. But, no. Apparently I couldn't even have _that_!

As if life didn't suck enough!

Scott and I had known Jackson – as well as Danny and Lydia – since kindergarten. Even back then Danny was loved by everyone. Even back then, Jackson was a jerk. Lydia was the only one that had changed.

I mean, she had been really nice. She would always drag Jackson away if he started being a dick, always talking to Scott and me... But then we got to fifth grade, when Lydia decided she wanted to be '_Queen Bee_'.

Since then, Jackson had gotten a little worse, realising that he wouldn't be stopped now. It had gone from simple name calling, to taunting, to physically being shoved into as many hard objects as possible.

Jackson was the main reason I got bruises from school.

Boyd and Isaac were on the Lacrosse team. They didn't join until last year, and only then did I know who they were. Sure, I had seen them around, but I didn't know _who _they were. Though, once I knew their names, I _did _look into them a bit – like I did with everyone else. They just _always _seemed to be around.

I looked Erica up as well, especially when she suddenly went from being a nobody to, well..._Erica_. Of course I should have realised that it was because of The Bite. She _always_ seemed to be around too, and just stayed close to Boyd – understandable, since they were dating – and Isaac.

Danny, on the other hand... Well, he was a good guy. Sure, like everyone else, he didn't like the fact I talked too much, but he wasn't cruel. Danny was the only one that had remained the same, from kindergarten up until that moment. And I didn't think he was going to be changing anytime soon.

As they came closer, all of them gave some form of greeting – a nod of their head, a grunt, a small bored smile, an unenthusiastic wave. While Scott replied with a smile of his own, I just gave a tiny wave of my own, before turning back to look out of the window in front of me.

_This was going to be fun._

* * *

Scott and Derek sat on the booth seats either side of me, keeping the other six further away from me.

No one was talking.

Everyone sat there stiffly, looking around, trying to think of something to say or do...

Of course, usually, that was me. But, given where I had to go that evening, I wasn't in the talking mood.

Isaac cleared his throat, some of them casting expectant glances over to me, waiting for me to say something to relieve the tension...

But no, not today. Not with what was going to be happening for the next four days, as well as tonight... I couldn't give them something to mock me with, if _that _was going to be happening as soon as I walked through the doors of that _fucking _place!

I didn't realise how long we had all been silent until someone touched my hand.

I jerked back violently, almost falling off of the chair I was on. I would have fallen off too, if it wasn't for Scott grabbing me. Looking up, I found the waiter standing next to me, looking bored and expectant and a little concerned all at the same time.

"I-I'm not hungry." I muttered, watching as the waiter shrugged and walked off.

"Stiles..." Scott started.

"I'm _not _hungry, Scott. Leave it alone!"

Everything just went silent again on our table. The sound of chatter and laughter filled the air from the other customers, but the nine of us remained absolutely soundless.

But someone, of course, spoke up eventually.

I just didn't suspect it would be _this particular_ someone.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Stiles?" Derek demanded, tone low and menacing as always.

"Nothing is _fucking wrong_! I just don't feel like talking! People don't seem to take too kindly to when I talk, so I thought I'd save them the earache!" I snarled, standing as my watch beeped. "I need to go."

And, with that, I left.

Even though I _may _have had a little bit of a, I guess you could call it '_crush_', on Derek – _hey, I was gay and he's hot! _– that didn't give him any right to order me to tell him anything, like I was one of his damn _pups_!

Man, it made me a little happy that Scott wasn't a part of _his _Pack!

But, hey, I couldn't think about that now.

No.

Right now, I had to prepare myself for hell.

* * *

**_Please, please review XD_**

**_Thanks everyone XD_**


	6. Fuck

**Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one apart from the following: **Ms Scarlet Johnson, Octavian.

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 5**

**Stiles**

I started working as soon as I walked into that building.

I dumped my backpack downstairs – behind all these crates, so no one could find it – before going about doing all my jobs.

Of course, as soon as I stated all my jobs, that was when the abuse started.

_Never a dull moment..._

First it was a hit around the head for not being finished with my work – Ms Johnson never realised I was gone.

Second was a punch in the arm for getting in the way of one of the other sixteen year olds.

Third was a dead leg for not moving fast enough.

Forth was a scratch for just existing.

Fifth was another hit for bleeding from the scratch.

It went on like this, just like it did every day.

Of course, luckily, I remembered to put my glasses on before I walked through the door of the Agency, so I at least avoided being hit for that...

_Silver lining..._

But I was going to be fine.

Eventually.

As I worked, I put all my frustration from the diner into the scrubbing and cleaning, making everything look a lot cleaner then they probably were. I mean, come on, things can't _really _be clean in _this_ place.

It was _filthy_!

From the moment I stepped into that hell hole, I tried to avoid Octavian at all costs. But I knew that, at some point, I wouldn't be able to keep hiding.

He would find me.

He always found me.

But I couldn't think about that now. I had floors to scrub and sweep, counters to wipe down, things to dust.

_It's a hard knock life, indeed..._

* * *

It was, around, ten in the evening when I had _finally _finished everything.

I was just minding my own business, putting the mop away, when _he _turned up.

I had closed the door to the storage cupboard, just about to head down to the basement, when he hooked his arm around my waist, dragging me back into him.

Of course this was going to happen today, it happened every time I came back!

_I hate my life!_

"Not so fast, Kitten. We've got some unfinished business." he whispered in my ear.

I _literally _felt like I was going to throw up.

What was his fixation with _me_?!

"I've planned out _exactly_ what I'm going to do to you tonight, Kitten. And you're gunna love _every second _of it." he told me. "First, I'm going to gag you and get rid of that _pesky_ shirt of yours. Then, of course, I'm going to have to tie you down. Wouldn't want you getting away; such a sneaky little thing you are."

Octavian already knew I wouldn't scream. He knew I wouldn't risk attracting the attention of anyone else in the Agency, especially no Ms Johnson.

No, he knew I would stay quiet.

He knew I wouldn't make my life more difficult than it already was.

"Gunna strip you slowly, Kitten. Make you _sweat_." he continued. "Gunna see how much of me cock you can take down your throat, bet you can take all of it without gagging. Haven't decided if I'm gunna let you swallow or not. Probably not, save that for another day...I'll just shove straight in to that pretty little ass of yours, Kitten."

I, pretty much, just wanted to run and throw up. But, when you had a Pixy's claws digging into your sides, you couldn't really run anywhere.

I tried before...

Didn't work out so well for me.

I could tell that Octavian was going to say more... But he stopped as soon as footsteps started to echo down the halls, coming closer and closer to where we were.

It was then that Octavian spun me around, grinning wickedly, before shoving me against the door, the small of my back hitting into the door handle of the storage cupboard.

"For the last time, _stop _trying to talk to me!" Octavian yelled, backing away slowly.

Ms Johnson walked around the corner as soon as he started talking, glaring... If this was a cartoon, she would have had steam coming out of her ears.

There was one rule in this place that concerned me. No one was to talk to or acknowledge me in anyway shape of form in the days leading up to, during or after potential adopters came to the Agency... If anyone did, then they would get a talking to, and I would be hit.

This time wasn't any different, only Octavian didn't get hit.

"Get to bed; ya got a long day ahead of ya, kid." Ms Johnson told him, smirking a little.

Octavian, like the ass kissing little fuck he was, just nodded and left, sending one more grin my way.

As soon as he left, the smirk on Ms Johnson's face fell, leaving a disturbing snarl on her face.

* * *

The last thing I remember was my head colliding with a wall.

Now I was being spat on and footsteps were fading away.

"Get ya ass to the basement!" she yelled, kicking my glasses back towards me. "Ya got shit to do tomorrow!"

So, sliding my glasses on, I used the walls to help me walk, practically dragging myself towards the basement door.

Each step was agonizing pain.

Each breath hurt.

Each bruise had multiple other bruises on top of it.

Many of the smaller scars had reopened and started bleeding.

_Oh, fan-fucking-tastic!_

Sighing, shaking my head, I took each step slower, especially when I got to the stairs.

The stairs leading down to the basement were narrow, steep and uneven... Even when I _hadn't _been beaten they were a pain to walk down. And up.

But I dealt with it.

I didn't complain.

If I complained, I was hit.

So I just sucked it up.

As soon as I reached the bottom, I lay down on that broken mattress, with the blanket filled with holes and a moth eaten pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

_Now, I just have to wait for Octavian to show up._

* * *

Saturday, June 9th 2012.

The first day of the ass kissing of potential adopters.

It was going to be hell... For me anyway.

Octavian didn't show up during the night, so I was _beyond _tired that morning...

Not a good start.

But, not only that, but Octavian and his group of _assholes _decided that, today, that would do _anything _and _everything _they could to make as many messes as they could.

Spilling drinks.

Dropping food.

Accidentally marking the floor or walls.

Breaking things.

And anything they did, I got the blame for.

Not that Ms Johnson would do anything to me in front of the potential adopters. _Oh no_! She had a '_reputation_' to uphold!

If only people knew how much of a bitch she was!

* * *

No one spoke to me.

No one acknowledged that I existed.

I was fine with that. Happy even!

But I knew that that would all end as soon as the last potential adopter had left the Agency.

Everything had been cleaned.

Everything had been sorted.

So I decided to go hide out in the basement.

Well, it was also following my orders, since that was what Ms Johnson told me to do... But it was more of a choice, to be honest.

So, I hid down there, thinking about when I was going to get out of that place.

Thinking about how much shit Scott would give me.

Thinking about what would happen when we went to the diner and Derek showed up.

Thinking about if Derek was going to bring his Pack with him again... I hoped he didn't.

I thought of _anything_! Anything that would take my mind off of where I was at that moment in time and what I would have to endure in just a few more hours!

Sure, it seemed like a long time. But, when you were me? An hour seemed so much shorter than it should be.

But, hey, couldn't complain, right? I mean, other people had it worse than me...

At least I had shelter.

At least I hadn't been raped.

At least I was _alive_...

Even if it was only barely.

* * *

For once, Ms Johnson didn't come down to the basement.

For once, Ms Johnson didn't beat me.

But, this time, Octavian stumbled down the stairs.

"Just because I didn't make it last night, Kitten, doesn't mean you're off the hook." he cackled. "I'm going to make good on my plans."

And I was well and truly screwed.

There was no way out of this.

I couldn't stop this.

I tried to run anyway, tried to make a break for it.

But Octavian rushed forward, forcing me back into the wall. He ripped the t-shirt I was wearing – one of Scott's old ones, not my dark blue one – chucking it aside before he forced me down onto my knees.

"Don't even _think _about it!" he roared, claws growing. "Try it again you frigid little human bastard and I will make you _pay_!"

And it just got all the more terrifying!

I mean, sure, I had seen pretty much everyone in the Agency pissed... Put I hadn't seen Octavian like this.

He was sweating and shaking. He was pale and clammy... So, naturally, I was frightened for my life!

Keeping one hand on my shoulder, Octavian used the other to unzip his jeans as fast as he could, pushing the material of his jeans and boxers down with force that was bound to rip them.

"Open wide, Kitten." Octavian snarled.

I did a stupid thing and fought back.

I struggled and hit out, trying to dislodge him.

I only succeeded in pissing him off more and elbowing him in the nuts.

Octavian stumbled backwards, groaning and clutching his junk, backing away towards the stairs.

"You're going to pay for that tomorrow, Kitten." Octavian ground out. "You're going to be sorry."

I didn't sleep at all that night either.

* * *

Sunday, June 10th.

Day two.

I was _bricking it_!

It was nine in the morning and I hadn't seen Octavian yet.

I hadn't seen many people yet...

Then again, no potential adopters were coming in for another two hours, so people were probably still asleep.

So, that gave me, about, another hour alone before I could be killed by Octavian and co. Oh, how _fantastic_!

Adjusting my glasses, I set about scrubbing the floors by the front door again, just so I had something to do. Just so I could think about something else.

Of course, I didn't expect to be kicked from behind so I fell flat on my front.

I should have known better than to think that Octavian would wait until everyone else was awake to make his move.

Eyes wide with fear, I started to push myself up.

Octavian just grabbed the back of my dark blue t-shirt, throwing me back into the wall opposite to where I was.

"This is what's going to happen." he barked, dragging me up to my feet by my neck. "I am _going _to fuck you, and you are _going _to _take it_. You do _anything _to stop me, and I _will _hurt you."

This time, Octavian tried to get _my _jeans of first.

He could fuck right off if he thought I was going to let him!

So, again, I fought back.

Even though I knew it was stupid and useless.

He punched me.

He slapped me.

But I kept fighting.

I wasn't going to let _him _do this to me!

I didn't let the others, so I most certainly _won't _let _him_!

But I was _still _going to have to find a way to stop him.

Octavian had just adjusted his grip on my throat, able to get his other hand around the hem of my jeans... He was _just _about to yank them down, when a loud growl stopped him.

Looking over his shoulder, my eyes went wide, with shock instead of fear now.

"_Derek_?!" I yelled.

* * *

**What do you think, should I change the rating from T to M?**

**_Please, please review XD_**

**_Thanks so much everyone XD_**


	7. How and Why?

**Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one apart from the following: **Ms Scarlet Johnson, Octavian, Jasmine (Jaz).

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**P.S. I've been really busy with college, so I won't update as regularly as I used to. It's going to be work work work, so bear with me, please :)**

**Chapter 6**

**Stiles**

"_Derek_?!" I yelled.

Standing by the, now shut, door was Derek _fucking _Hale with his eyes glowing red, growling.

Octavian dropped me as soon as he caught eye of the Alpha, bowing his head and backing away.

I should have known that wouldn't be the end of it, though.

"What did I tell ya?!" Ms Johnson screamed, storming towards me, throwing me back down to the floor. "Do ya job and _don't _talk to anyone, ya impolite little _brat_!"

I only _just_ managed to break my fall, hiding my face from Derek as I scrambled back onto my knees.

"Sorry, ma'am." I whispered, readjusting my glasses and starting to scrub the floors again.

"I said _DON'T _talk!" she yelled again, hitting me across the back of the head, sending my glasses flying off of my face.

At least I could see enough to know where they landed.

This was the _last _thing I wanted to happen!

I didn't want _Derek_ of all people to find out about this!

I wanted no one to know about this! Well, no one other than Scott and Melissa...

"_Alpha Hale, you're early."_ I heard Ms Johnson say, sweetly. _"Unfortunately, all the children other than Octavian are still asleep. All the excitement makes the little darlings so tired."_

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my glasses, shoving them back onto my face. I kept my head down as I made my way back over to where the bucket of water and the sponge lay on the floor, which, unfortunately, just so happened to be _right next _to Ms Johnson.

Oh, the joy of that.

Swallowing past the lump in my throat and trying to ignore the pain in my head, I started to walk past Octavian and _towards_ Ms Johnson.

I could feel Octavian watching me from where he stood, not daring to make a move, no matter how much he wanted to.

I guess it paid well to have an Alpha on your side.

I could see Ms Johnson clenching her fist. I knew before she even started doing that that she was going to hit me again.

She always did.

I just had to keep my head down and endure it.

But the next thing I knew, as soon as I got half way between Octavian and Ms Johnson, I was pulled to the side.

Pulled towards the door.

Pulled _towards Derek_, as he growled again.

"Are you ok?" he asked, words sounding strange as his fangs started to grow.

I just nodded, wincing slightly as the pain in the back of my head.

Snarling quietly, Derek placed his hand, gently, on the back of my head, leeching the pain away, just like he did in the diner a few days prior.

I stood as still as I could as the pain leaked out of me, wrapping my own arms around my torso as I stood there.

"Is this how you get the other bruises?" Derek mumbled, so quietly that the other two couldn't even hear them.

I nodded again, keeping my eyes to the floor.

Of course, that then meant I saw Derek clench his other hand into a fist, puncturing his palm with his claws.

I winced out of principal...

"I'll take Stiles." Derek said, dropping his hand to my shoulder.

"But, Alpha Hale, you're here to find a _child _to re-home, not a..." Ms Johnson started.

"I know! And that's _exactly _what I'm doing! Now, I'm taking Stiles. _No _arguments."

I felt like the silence stretched on for hours, no one saying anything, the air tense.

You wouldn't be able to see it, but because I was so close I could feel Derek shaking, trying to restrain himself from _exploding_.

I was _sincerely _hoping that we _didn't_ get to that...

"Fine, you can have the little shit." Ms Johnson agreed. "He has no papers, so just take him."

* * *

Derek had gone down to the basement with me, so I could get my backpack. He made sure I walked in front of him the whole time, and that he didn't leave too large a gap between us.

Even though it still scared me a little, I was grateful.

Derek had told me to get in his car – coincidentally the one that was _directly _outside of the Agency – and sit in the passenger seat while he spoke to Ms Johnson.

From where I was sat, it looked more like threatening than speaking to.

Derek said nothing when he walked out of the Agency.

Derek said nothing when he got into his Camaro.

Derek said nothing as he started his car.

Derek said nothing as he started to drive.

And I was _so not_ going to break this silence!

As always, I kept my head down, choosing to stare at my backpack, which I had sitting in-between my feet as I fiddled with the handle.

_I was out of there... I was out of that hell hole..._

The question was, though: for how long?

* * *

I looked around as we pulled up into the – I guess you could call it – drive, mainly focusing on the house that was surrounded by the hundreds of acres of woods. The house itself was large. It looked three stories high, but I it was probably more than that – underground space, duh.

Looking it from the front, it would look like any normal house, not too special and not to large... From the side? Well, it stretched quite far back, and don't even get me started on how far it must have went down for the basement!

The walls were made up of wooden planks – they must have been covering the bricks –, each corner of the house made of bricks, the same as part of the middle of the walls on the side of the house on both sides.

Each floor of the house was separated by a concrete ledge, the largest concrete ledge being the first one over the door, being held up by four pillars on the porch.

Windows were equally spaced around the house, letting in enough light to brighten up the interior, but not so much that it was _drowned _in light.

The roof...the roof was flat, the edge before the concrete ledge surrounded by a metal fence of sorts. A small bump could be seen on top, probably a door that you walked through to get onto the roof. It must be nice to go up onto that roof, to lie down and look up at the stars. The view must have been great too, standing by the fence and look out on everything.

All in all, I was impressed.

"You live here." I couldn't help but say.

A grunt was the only reply I got as Derek left the car...

I scrambled to follow, tripping over my feet twice to catch up after I closed to door to his Camaro.

I could tell by the tension in his shoulders that he was fuming...

I stayed quiet, hoping that that would help him to calm down before he actually spoke... But I doubted that would work.

As soon as the door to the house closed behind me, I found Derek already pacing in the hall way, in front of me.

"Why didn't you tell me, Stiles." he demanded, voice cold. "I COULD'VE HELPED YOU _AGES_ AGO!"

I could help but flinch back at the sudden roar, flattening myself against the door and sliding down to the floor, covering my ears with my hands and clenching my eyes shut.

I had already dropped my backpack beside me; I could feel the material against my leg.

_He was going to be exactly like Ms Johnson, wasn't he?_

Immediately, I felt someone in front of me.

"Sorry." Derek whispered now. "I shouldn't have yelled. Why didn't you tell me?"

"If I left, they would have thought I was with Scott. They know some of the places we go; they know they can corner me in school when I go back..." I whispered, opening my eyes. "If I ran, Scott could have gotten hurt, his mom could have gotten hurt, and I _know _they'd probably have tried to kill me. If I told anyone, they'd have made my life more of a hell than they had already... I thought I could deal with it. I didn't want anybody else to get hurt because of me."

Derek frowned, but said nothing. Instead, he held out a hand a helped me up once I took it.

"Come on, you'll sleep and eat for now. I'll give you a tour tomorrow." Derek told me; placing his right hand on my right shoulder once I was standing, leading me towards the stairs. "My family are away until tomorrow evening, so it's just the two of us and the staff in the house until then."

"Staff?" I asked, quietly.

Derek nodded, giving the barest his of a smile.

"People that had worked for my family for generations. They don't want any other job, no matter how much we tell them we'll help them get it." Derek explained. "They're like family, really."

Well, at least they weren't treated like I had been...

* * *

Derek took me to the top floor of the house, taking me right to the end of the hallway.

The door to my left had a simple red, wooden '_D_' on it, while the one to my right had nothing. The door to my left was the only one with a letter on it, the others bear... I guess Derek as the only one that slept on this floor of the house...

As I stood in the middle of the hall, Derek walked over to the door to my right, opening it a little and stuck his head through.

All I heard was a muffled conversation before it closed again.

"They're still sorting your room out." Derek explained. "I wasn't actually supposed to come home for another three hours, but... You know what, never mind, come in here."

Derek walked over to the door with the red '_D_', opening and walking through it, holding the door open for me.

Hesitantly, I followed, pushing my glasses back up the bridge of my nose as they started falling.

All the walls but on were white, the wall to the right of the door having been painted black. There were four book cases filled from top to bottom with books, few pictures on shelves, a walk in closet, a balcony and a _massive _bed. There were two other doors in the room, one was a bathroom – the door was open, that was how I knew – and the other was closed...

"It's a study." Derek explained, gesturing to the door that was shut. "Computer, books for research, etcetera."

I nodded, continuing to look around the room, but staying rooted to the spot.

I was so fixated on looking around the room that I didn't notice that Derek had moved until something was being shoved into my hands.

"I expect you don't have anything else with you and these are the smallest things I own." Derek told me. "Change in the bathroom and leave what you're wearing on top of the hamper. We'll get you new clothes tomorrow."

For what felt like the hundredth time that day, I nodded before taking the sweatpants and t-shirt from Derek and headed to the bathroom to change.

_Why was he being so nice to me?_

* * *

As soon as I came back out of the bathroom, Derek told me that, until '_the staff_' were done with sorting out my room, that I was going to sleep in _his _bed and that he would take me to _my room_ when it was ready.

I apologised there and then for anything I might do when he woke me up, because _Lord knows _what would happen then...

"I'll be in the study." Derek said. "Do you want me to keep the door open?"

Biting my lip, I thought for a second before I nodded.

Even though I really didn't want him to know if I had any nightmares, I also didn't want to hear the door open later and freak out...

Besides, I trusted Derek more than I did some others.

"Alright. Try and get some sleep." he said, right before walking into the room to the far left of his bed.

I watched as Derek walked away, only pushing the door slightly so it was at an angle. This Derek, compared to the one I saw at the Agency and in the ground floor of the house, was one I never thought I would see.

Not to mention with how he acted whenever he joined Scott and me at the diner.

Frowning slightly, I hesitantly made my way over to his bed, lying on top of the covers.

* * *

The next thing I knew, someone was touching me.

The first thing to fly through my head was that Octavian was going to make good on his promise.

So, naturally, I tried to get away, hitting and kicking and punching, doing just about anything I could think of. Trying to get away, trying to keep myself _relatively _safe.

It was the most primal instinct a person had: _fight or flight_.

Usually, it would be flight, unless I was verbally talking someone down and they were, in no way, a supernatural creature. But, sometimes, you just _had _to fight back.

But then I was being held down.

By someone heavy.

And they were..._talking_?

"_Stiles,_ calm down_."_ Derek's voice murmured, quietly, pining me down to the mattress. _"You're going to hurt yourself."_

Freezing as I was, keeping the tension in my body, I opened my eyes slowly, seeing the Alpha wolf hovering over me. Well, when I say over, I mean his head was over me, he was actually to the side of me.

"Sorry, sir." I whispered, avoiding eye contact.

"Did you just call me '_sir_'?" Derek scoffed. "Stiles, you call me _Derek_, nothing else. Got it?"

"Yes, si... I mean, Derek."

Sighing, Derek let go of me, sliding off of the side of his bedand stood to the side.

Sitting up, I felt something fall into my lap. Looking down, I found a thick blanket covering my lower half, pooling in my lap. Frowning, I just stared at it... I mean, it wasn't there when I first lay down, yet, somehow, here it was.

"You were shivering." Derek spoke. "It was the thickest one I could find.

Glancing up at the Alpha wolf, I caught him watching me, as if I was something new he was trying to figure out.

It was a look that I hated people aiming at me.

It was a look that I had received more times than I cared to admit.

"Thanks." I muttered. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Four hours; its two o'clock." Derek told me. "You would have been asleep longer, but Jaz just told me they were done with your room.

"Who's Jaz?"

"Jasmine. She's a part of the cleaning part of the staff."

Nodding, I got off of Derek's bed, making sure that the borrowed t-shirt and sweat pants didn't fall down as I moved, folding the blanket as soon as I was standing.

Looking around, I tried to find the cupboard or draw that it most likely belonged in... But I had the feeling that it didn't belong in Derek's room...

So, looking over at Derek, I waited for him to give me _some_ idea as to where the blanket went.

"Just leave it there; it'll be taken care of later." Derek said, walking over to the door.

"Won't I get in trouble?" I asked, frowning, staying rooted to the spot.

Stopping half way between his bed and the door, Derek turned around, a bemused expression colouring his face.

"Why would you get in trouble?" he chuckled, slightly.

"I would always get in trouble if I didn't put something back where it belonged." I replied, looking down at the carpet. "Ms Johnson would always get mad. But I learnt my lesson after the first time."

Derek stopped chuckling.

Everything went eerily quiet.

I could feel Derek watching me.

"What happened the first time?" he asked wearily.

"Health inspector came in. They said I fell down the stairs, so they took me to the hospital." I said.

"How old where you?"

"Eight."

Without saying another word, Derek left the room, turning to the right and walking down the hallway, leaving me where I was standing.

Great, only four hours with this guy and I've fucked it up already.

I wouldn't be surprised if he took me back.

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thanks XD**_

_******P.S. I've been really busy with college, so I won't update as regularly as I used to. It's going to be work work work, so bear with me, please :)**_


	8. New Rules

**Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one apart from the following: **Ms Scarlet Johnson, Octavian, Jasmine (Jaz), Miguel, Sasha.

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please review XD**

**P.S. I've been really busy with college, so I won't update as regularly as I used to. It's going to be work-work-work, so bear with me, please :)**

**Chapter 7**

**Stiles**

I met Jasmine (Jaz) Santiago – a nice Latina lady – after Derek left.

She saw Derek storm off down the hall before seeing me just standing there, still holding the blanket. Instantly, the woman – around the age of forty – came over to me with a friendly smile and a thick Spanish accent.

The first thing Jaz did, after greeting me and welcoming me to the house, was take the blanket from me, saying she would put that away.

That was something I wasn't used to.

I had gotten used to doing everything myself, knowing where everything went... It got so bad that I was even like that at Scott's house whenever I was round there...

The next thing she did was walk me the few steps from Derek's room to, what was now, my own.

"_I have a bed?!"_ was the first thing out of my mouth, eyes going wide at the sight of the _thirty five _inch mattress on top of the metal stand.

There was even a wooden headboard that seemed to be covered with this really soft material...

To some, it would just be a bed.

To me? It was _heaven_!

Then again, most things would be after sleeping on broken mattress with a blanket filled with holes and a moth eaten pillow.

_Oh_, and that was another thing! Duvet – a dark purple – and the pillows – a dark blue – were both thick and new and just so _squishy _looking. I mean, honestly, it looked as if you would sink right in to it!

"I'll leave you to settle and sleep." Jaz said, gently, before closing the door the room, leaving me alone in it.

The walls were white, and the only furniture seemed to be a desk and chair, a wardrobe, a few shelves, a few cabinets and a couple of draws. Even _this_ seemed too much for _me_. I mean, I had barely anything, let alone enough to put in all these places.

Setting my backpack – I had grabbed it as I left Derek's room – on the floor next to the desk, I looked around again before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

This was going to take a lot of getting used to – if Derek let me stay, that is.

* * *

At some point I must have fallen asleep again because, the next thing I knew, there was knock on the door to the room I was in.

I had only _just_ sat up when the door opened and Derek popped his head around the door.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked, sounding a little guilty.

I shook my head, keeping it turned down.

"I want to apologise, sir." I told him, quietly, crossing my legs on the bed. "I didn't mean to upset you earlier. I understand if you're taking me back there."

"Stop calling me '_sir_'." Derek told me, sighing as he walked in and closed the door behind him. "And I'm _not_ taking you back."

Even though that surprised me, I didn't let it show. I didn't look up.

I just nodded slightly.

"You have nothing to be sorry about either." Derek added. "I was just..._surprised_ and had to go cool down."

Again, I just nodded.

"Why do you always nod, why don't you speak?" Derek asked, a little frustrated.

"I'm only allowed to take when apologising or when I'm answering a question." I told him. "Ms Johnson made sure I knew that."

I watched as Derek's hands clenched into fists, curling into myself as he did so...

Even though the Alpha wolf was standing on the other side of the room to me, I wasn't deluded to believing that he couldn't get over to me faster than I could blink. I mean, despite what people thought, I _wasn't _an idiot.

It was the way I was wired – and sometimes my ADHD – that made people think that.

"Come on," he said instead, forcing his hands to relax. "We'll have a late lunch."

* * *

Down in the kitchen there was one guy and one woman cooking and preparing food... Derek told me it was Jasmine's husband and a friend of theirs – Miguel Santiago and Sasha Blake.

I couldn't get over the uneasiness that came with letting other people take care of the everyday tasks that I usually tended to. I didn't know what to do and I just felt like, at some point, someone was going to turn around and treat me just like Ms Johnson did whenever I stopped doing my duties.

Derek got me to sit at the table before he went to speak to the two at the counters and oven, telling me to just sit and relax.

Huh, _relax_. That was something I hadn't been able to do in a _long _time. Not properly, anyway.

Not even at Scott's...

Sitting in the chair at the table, I tried to make myself as small as possible: shoulders hunched, back bowed, knees and feet together, hands in my lap. When I was younger, when Ms Johnson _had_ to feed me, this was how I had to sit.

This was how I had to hold myself anytime I sat down. Though that was _always _a rarity.

A hand on my shoulder jarred me out of my head, making me flinch back violently, which almost tipped the chair I was in all the way back. I would have fallen and hit my head if it wasn't for the hand on my shoulder pulling me back down.

It turned out the Derek had sat at the head of the table – the chair to my right – watching me a little..._concerned_?

"Pretty sure that's not relaxing." Derek said, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry, si... I mean, Derek." I replied, quietly.

"Don't apologise. Just relax while we wait to eat."

"How much?"

That made the Alpha wolf stop.

He looked as if I had grown another head and, maybe, I might have done just that if I wasn't being serious.

"Can you repeat that?" Derek asked, slowly.

"How much am I allowed to eat?" I asked, nervously, pushing my glasses back up my nose. "You haven't told me yet. Neither at what times I'm allowed to eat, nor what I can and can't wear. Ms Johnson always had rules about that... As well as other things."

Glancing up, I could see red starting to seep into Derek's eyes.

I was used to it being blue, not red... And the red just made the panic worse.

The red meant something much more dangerous.

The red meant anger and pain and blood and _power_.

I could feel my heart rate increasing.

I could feel my throat closing.

All I did was blink and, all of a sudden, the red was gone from his eyes, leaving behind the faded forest green they usually were.

"Let's get one thing straight." Derek told me, voice low. "You don't need to ask _anything _like that. You don't need to wait for permission. You eat, wear, do, go..._whatever_ whenever you like. Do you understand?"

"Yes." I mumbled.

Just as I answered Miguel and Sasha walked over to the table, both with a plate and a drink in their hands.

The uncomfortable feeling came back tenfold as they both placed the plates and drinks in front of Derek and I, but I tried not to let that show when I thanked them.

I couldn't help but glance at Derek, waiting for some kind of indication that it was actually alright for me to eat this... I guess he noticed that I needed that, so did nothing but nod.

"Why do you answer everything so honestly?" Derek asked after a few moments of silence.

"I was told to not hide anything from my master or mistress when they asked me a direct question, otherwise they would get angry." I said, staring at the table. "I don't want anyone to get angry."

* * *

After the late lunch, Derek took me into the living room area.

And, I swear, the living room in Derek's house was the size of the _whole _of the ground floor of the Agency.

Couches, recliners, _giant _flat screen TV... A massive pile of blankets and pillows in a corner... A fire place. Family pictures.

It had everything you would expect it to have and more... Overall, it was just very _homey_.

I couldn't really remember much about my home – too many blows to the head and lack of Adderall – but I always loved to imagine what it would be like...

_Man, who am I, Annie?!_

"Whoa." I whispered.

"Yeah." Derek said. "I always thought it was a bit too much."

"It's _awesome_! I mean, it's very nice..."

Sighing, Derek fell back into one of the recliners, muttering something quietly to himself. If it was Scott, I would have bugged him until he told me what he said... But because it was Derek and because he was now, technically, the person who owned me, I just kept quiet.

I mean, Ms Johnson was always saying I was a thing to be owned, not cared about.

After another glance around the room, I walked over the wall furthest away from Derek and sat down on the floor, leaning back against it. It was rare that I ever got to sit on a chair in the Agency, so it had to be the same here.

Right?

Then again, it was even rarer that I got to sit in the same room as someone else...

"Stiles, you know you can sit on a couch or one of the recliners." Derek said, slowly.

"I-I can?" I questioned, softly, glancing towards him.

"Yeah. Besides, they're comfier than the floor."

It was going to be hard trying to get used to these new rules...

* * *

**Please review XD**

**Thanks XD**


	9. Shopping Trip

**Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one apart from the following: **Ms Scarlet Johnson, Octavian, Jasmine (Jaz), Miguel and Sasha.

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**P.S. I've been really busy with college, so I won't update as regularly as I used to. It's going to be work-work-work, so bear with me, please :)**

**Chapter 8**

**Stiles**

The next morning – Monday, June 11th – I woke up to the sound of birds chirping.

The sun was just beginning to rise over Beacon Hills, casting shadows deep into the forest surrounding the house I was in.

I looked out of the wide window in the room I had been out in, looking out into the forest. It was kind of beautiful... Never had I really got to appreciate the view of, well, _anything_ before, always to busy with getting to one place or another.

And right now wasn't any different.

Teeth had been brushed, hair as well, glasses were on, Adderall swallowed. Since I didn't have anything to wear, I just stayed in what Derek had given me to wear the day before...hopefully he wouldn't mind.

Sighing a little, I made my way – quietly – out of the room, closing the door behind me. I didn't know if the house was soundproof or not, so it was better to stay quiet... Not that that would help me, considering, you know, werewolves had sensitive hearing like dogs.

Anyhow, as silently as I could, I crept downstairs. All the bruises I had gotten yesterday from Octavian and Ms Johnson the day before weren't giving me any trouble today, thanks to Derek and his pain leeching powers.

Every single door I passed along the way was closed, just like the day before, so that gave me no indication as to whether Derek's family was back or not. It didn't help that I couldn't hear any sound coming from inside of them either...

But, hey, I had had – almost – nine whole years of practice, I could stay quiet enough.

It was actually fairly easy finding the cupboard with all the cleaning supplies in. I mean, I guess it was kind of obvious that it would be in the one under the stairs, because a lot of people put cleaning things in there, but...

Anyway: I found the cleaning supplies.

I figured that I would have to do the same chores in this house as I did back at the Agency, that had to be why Derek took me. I mean, it was the only reason anyone – other than Melissa and Scott, of course – would take me out of that place.

Right?

Shaking my head, I just decided to just get on with it.

It would be easier that way.

* * *

Scrubbing.

Dusting.

Washing.

Cooking.

General cleaning...

I made sure everything was spotless and ready.

It had taken me five hours since I had gotten downstairs – it was now nine thirty in the morning – but I was done. Everything on the ground floor of the house was sparkling clean or ready to be eaten and drank.

No one could say that I didn't do my job properly.

"Stiles?" a voice from behind me yawned. "What are you doing down here?"

Spinning around, I pressed my back against the kitchen counter, head down.

"Cooking and cleaning, sir." I mumbled, adjusting my glasses. "I just finished."

"Stiles, you don't have to do that anymore." Derek sighed. "You don't have to do _any _of that anymore."

"Why else did you take me, if not for this?"

"To save you, dumbass."

Even with Derek's '_explanation_', I just didn't get it.

He could have had any of those kids – _supernatural _kids. Kids like him!

But he took me?

Why me? What was I any good for?

I was useless!

Even though I was still confused, I didn't look up. I just frowned at the floor and pushed my glasses back up my nose. I mean, who was I to question that guy who owned me? Because that was who he was.

"Just sit down at the table, Stiles. Eat and drink." Derek grumbled. "It's going to be a _long_ day."

"May I ask: why?" I whispered, trying to make myself as small as possible as I sat down.

Even though my Adderall kicked in four and a half hours ago, sometimes I still lacked a filter... It had gotten me in trouble more times than I liked to admit.

"Well, considering the amount of things we need to buy for you, we're most likely going to be out for a few hours." Derek told me, sitting at the head of the table to my left. "We need to get you, pretty much, _everything_ that bitch should have provided for you."

"Ms Johnson always said that I had roof over my head and I didn't need anything else." I explained. "Said that a worthless human like me wasn't as important as the special ones at the Agency."

To me, it was something I had gotten used to. Something I had grown up hearing and, in turn, believing.

To Derek... Well, I didn't know _what _he was thinking, but it mustn't have been good.

"She lied." Derek gritted out through his teeth. "Every word she ever said is a _lie_."

"But, Ms..." I started.

"And _don't _say her name again!"

Biting my lip quickly, I stared down at the table.

This wasn't going very well...

* * *

In Derek's car my left leg wouldn't stop bouncing up and down; the fingers on my right hand drummed on my right thigh; the nail on my left thumb was getting murdered by my teeth...

So, yeah... Jittery.

I was diagnosed with ADHD at the age of four Well, ADHD hyperactive-impulsive. I was unable to sit still, especially in calm or quiet surroundings; constantly fidgeting; I was unable to settle to tasks...well, some tasks anyway, it depended what they were; I had excessive physical movement; I talked excessively, but only when I trusted the person, which hadn't happened since mom; I sometimes acted without thinking; I interrupted conversations; had little or no sense of danger.

So now, sitting in the calm and quiet, I couldn't help but fidget in my seat. Hence my jittery nature.

Some things had gotten worse over time, once the beatings started – like the not being able to sit still in the calm or quiet.

On top of it all, the skin of my right forearm started to burn, like I had a lighter held to it. I couldn't stand the irritation, the burning coming to a point where I had to try and scratch away the pain. This wasn't anything new; the burning had made an appearance before. Of course, at that time, the skin had broken... The pain wouldn't stop, so I kept scratching, making the already forming marks deeper... Those scars, unlike the ones on my back and torso, had disappeared.

"Stiles." a slightly irritated sigh came.

I didn't answer, just continued to pull at the skin with my nails, trying in vain to get rid of the itch, the chosen spot becoming very red, very fast. But it seemed that no matter what I did to it – left it, scratched it, pressed my palm/fist to it – it just got _worse_!

I didn't know I broke the skin of my forearm until it started to sting and a hand had grabbed my left wrist.

My head snapped up and to the side quickly, trying separately to get my arm away, coming face to face with Derek.

A frowning Derek.

A..._worried_ – was that worried or concerned? Wait they're the same thing aren't they? – Derek.

Derek didn't let go. Not until I calmed down and stopped trying to get out of his hold...which I will admit took longer than necessary for the average person... He didn't let go of my wrist until I had relaxed back into the seat a little – as well as adjusted my glasses and stared down at my lap again –, even though my left leg was still bouncing up and down and the fingers of my right hand were still drumming away.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, staring straight ahead, frowning slightly.

"A lot of things are wrong with me." I muttered. "But I have ADHD. I'm sorry, I can't control it."

Derek didn't reply. Instead he took his right hand – the one that had been keeping hold of my wrist – and slowly placed it on the lower part of my thigh, nearer my knee.

I froze at the initial contact, staring at the offending appendage. But somehow, for some reason, I didn't feel as anxious as I normally would have... Don't get me wrong, there was still that blinding panic.

It just wasn't at strong.

That had never happened before.

Of course, that didn't stop my breathing from becoming shallower and faster as the panic hit me.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Stiles." Derek said, softly. "I won't ever hurt you."

* * *

An hour and forty six later, we pulled into a parking space in the parking lot of Red Bluff's mall. I had only ever been there once before – with Melissa and Scott – but it looked even bigger now than it ever did back then...

"Right, I have a list of things we need to get." Derek mumbled, digging in his pockets until he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "Clothes, shoes, cell phone, laptop, etcetera."

"All that, just for me?" I whispered to myself.

"There's _a lot_ more than just that. Come on."

And, with that, Derek had jumped out of his Camaro, just like he did when we pulled up in front of his house the day before.

Of course, this time, he decided to slam the door shut...

Yeah... Loud noises + Stiles = not good...

As soon as the sound reached my ears, I had the seatbelt off and was crouched in the foot-well of the passenger side of the car.

I was good with getting into small places... With being, pretty much, skin and bone, it was easy for me to fit into spaced that many others would never be able to fit.

Over time, it had proved _very _useful...

In an instant, Derek had zoomed around the car and wrenched the door open, staring down at me, bewildered.

I remembered the first Scott I did it around Scott... The exact same face, only at that time it was an eleven year old that was aiming it at me. The first time that happened – the first time Scott looked at me like that – that was when I knew that my situation was _way _worse than I had ever thought it was before.

"You have _a lot _of explaining to do, later." Derek mused, stretching out a hand to help me up and out. "But let's focus on _this_ first."

I just nodded, adjusting my glasses.

* * *

I guess it was a good thing, shopping somewhere nobody knew us... I mean, at least I didn't have to worry about the others from the Agency following me, even if I did keep checking.

But it also meant that people weren't staring. They just assumed that Derek and I were two normal people, just walking straight on by.

It was, actually, kind of nice. Nobody knowing who I was, nobody judging...

It felt nice.

Derek had already dragged me into countless stores to get things for '_my room_'. Posters, books, bed sheets, blinds for the window, a _toothbrush_... Anything you could think of, he got for me. Laptop, cell phone...

We had _everything_ apart from shoes and clothes.

I couldn't even begin to count how many trips Derek had made to his car to put bags away. Well, no, that was a lie. I just had to count how many times to sheer panic – twenty eight, so far – I had felt when he left me _alone_ in a place I didn't know.

I know, it completely contradicts _everything _I've already said but, hey, _everybody_ does that!

Anyway, getting off track here. Everything on Derek's list had been done, apart from shoes and clothes.

"I-I could just keep wearing what you found me in..." I mumbled. "I-I don't mind, I'm used to it."

"No, Stiles." Derek huffed. "And I swear, if you say that one more time..."

"I'm sorry, don't hit me!"

Derek froze on the spot and spun around to face me, disbelief covering his face.

"Hit you? Why would I...? You know what, don't answer that. I can guess." Derek growled. "Look, I told you, I won't ever hurt you. I was just going to say that if you said it one more time that when you were introduced to the youngest members of my family, I would not stop them from using you as a human colouring book. Their parents just bought them ink colouring pens and will draw on any_thing_ and any_one_."

And that? Well...that just made me a little fuzzy inside, and I _really _didn't know why.

But I liked the feeling.

* * *

Derek dragged me into all kinds of clothing stores, chucking shirts and jeans and trousers and things at me to go try on.

Over half of the stuff went back to the racks.

Shoes were easy – sneakers, converse sneakers and, for some reason, dress shoes... Clothes, on the other hand, were where it got difficult.

There was one store I liked...

We had walked in and, straight away, my eye had been caught by something over to the right of the store, while Derek steered left.

"Oh." I whispered.

To the right of the store, I spotted t-shirts that were just me: Batman, Superman, Flash, Iron Man, Green Lantern, Hulk, Captain America, etcetera.

You name it.

Superhero t-shirts and checkered button down shirts and shirts with funny slogans and hoodies...

These were the kinds of clothes I would normally want to get. I never did back at the Agency, since Ms Johnson never liked when I had things.

Besides, having a plain t-shirt that was off a dark colour was easier to have. Especially if you were trying to hide blood, or something.

But the things I was looking at, at this instant, they were the things I wanted to have been getting ever since I was a little kid!

I started looking through the racks at everything there. There was a range of colours and pictures, everything!

I would have been happy just staying there.

"Stiles, come on." Derek called, closer than he was earlier.

I jumped back a little, guilty that I had veered off... I was always told never to run off, unless I wanted to be chained up like a dog.

Looking up slightly, I found Derek standing in front of me – _damn, werewolves were fast_ – his head cocked to the side, eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

"Marvel or DC?" he asked.

And I was _so _not expecting that!

"Huh?" I replied, dumbly.

"Marvel or DC? Which do you prefer?" Derek asked, a shadow of a smile on his face.

This was something I _never_ thought I would talk to about with _Derek Hale_...

"Both. Marvel and DC both have their awesome heroes and I can't decide which I like. I mean, DC has: Superman, Green Lantern and Green Arrow – have you noticed they like the colour green? Not to mention: Batman, Flash and Catwoman." I nodded, grinning a little more as I kept speaking. "However, Marvel has: Captain America, Daredevil, Wolverine and the X-Men, Hawkeye, Thor and Iron Man – though not one of my favourites. So, you see, it's hard to choice when both have so many _awesome _heroes _and _villains! I just wish I still had my comic books. Ms...I mean, _she _sold everything in my house, including said house... It was the only things she could sell. What she couldn't...well, I don't know where that all went, but the only thing she couldn't take was the money from my parents' life insurance...but I won't get them until I'm eighteen."

I had noticed Derek change during my little speech. At the beginning he had slowly started to smile more and more, looking less like the stoic Alpha everyone knew him as, and more of a...happy, approachable person.

But, as soon as I mentioned me comic books? He reverted straight back to stoic Alpha, growing tenser as I continued to speak, his jaw set. But he tried to stay calm on the outside, even though I could see through it all.

After a moment of silence, Derek moved slowly, so he didn't startle me, picking up one of each t-shirt, hoodie and checkered shirt there...

"Nobody knows this but I still have my comic books from when I was around your age. Still get every new one that's brought out." Derek said, quietly. "I have doubles of every single issue. They're yours now."

"What?" I breathed.

"They're yours. I've got two boxes, and each box is filled with the exact same comic books. One of those boxes is now yours. Now, help me get all of these to the cash register."

Today was just full of surprises.

* * *

Just before we went to leave to go back to Beacon Hills, I changed out of the sweatpants and t-shirt Derek let me borrow the day before, and into some of my new stuff.

Black and white converse sneakers with red laces, black skinny jeans, dark purple button down shirt and a blood red leather jacket with a soft-material hood.

The jacket was actually pretty comfy and _really _awesome... But it took Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf to a _whole _new level.

Anyway, so I had changed into things that actually _fit _me and were _new_... It felt strange, but in a good way.

My life was actually..._changing_.

I had _way _too many bags to count. They had all been put into the back of Derek's Camaro, filling up the backseat as well as the trunk. Like, seriously, there was so much!

"I've never had this much stuff." I muttered, starring out of the windshield.

I didn't expect a reply, and that was exactly what I got...

But I just had to say it.

I mean, I really never had this much stuff before, not even as a little kid!

I mean, sure, I had a lot before my parents died, but not this much... And it all just felt so _strange_ to me.

The rest of the ride back to the house was quiet, Derek not being much of a talker and me being told never to speak unless spoken to – unless it was Scott, Melissa or Derek before he took me away from the Agency.

I would have thought I'd start to panic again or the ride would go by so slowly I would be bored out of my _skull_... But, before I knew it, we were pulling up in front of it.

_Still can't believe they live _here_!_

* * *

Derek ran most of the bags into the house and up to, what he called, '_my room_'. Even the bags I had managed to grab and started taking into the house, he took and ran upstairs.

It took him ten trips, but he was there and back in a flash, what with his wolfy powers.

Where I thought he would have stayed inside after he took the last lot in, Derek did the complete opposite and ran back out, only to walk back in with me.

Even though it was weird, I appreciated it.

A lot.

"You can sort it out however you like." Derek told me as he closed the door and we walked further into the house. "Jasmine and the others are changing what they can for now, but the rest is up to you to place."

"Thank you." I nodded.

"_Oh, well isn't that sweet." _a voice from behind us said. _"Such a polite Little Red."_

* * *

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